


Taking Care of Things

by StaticPhobia



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Canon Divergence, DSMP, Dream Smp, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everyone Needs A Hug, Hurt/Comfort, Not Beta Read, Not Video Blogging RPF, Puffy is a therapist, Tommyinnit is sad, Trauma, papa puffy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 07:06:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29804742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StaticPhobia/pseuds/StaticPhobia
Summary: Puffy has seen this server at its highest, and she’s watched it plummet to its lowest of lows. Finally, there seems to be tranquility. Dream is locked away in prison, and an economy is beginning to grow.The kids aren’t alright, though. She’s determined to fix that.(Title from Taking Care of Things by Cavetown.)
Relationships: Cara | CaptainPuffy & Clay | Dream, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Ranboo, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Sam | Awesamdude, Cara | CaptainPuffy & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Cara | CaptainPuffy & TommyInnit, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Ranboo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit
Kudos: 48





	Taking Care of Things

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> This story discusses a lot of various characters and their trauma, so if you’re sensitive to any of that, please be cautious while reading.
> 
> I plan to post one chapter a week, and in total there’ll be four chapters.
> 
> Note that this is canon divergence! In this story, Tommy was never locked in the prison with Dream.

He came into the office silently.

Immediately, Puffy looked down at the paper on her desk, picked up her pen and scribbled down a few notes, twirling the tool between her fingers as she offered a warm smile.

“Tommy!” She was quick to scramble to greet him afterwards, her chair rolling out from under her as she strode to the boy who stood just inside the doorway. She tucked her pen behind her ear before she reached her hand out. “I’m so glad you made it, I really didn’t think you would come,” she admitted sheepishly.

Head pointed towards the ground, his limbs awkwardly filling the doorframe despite how suddenly small he looked, his sky blue eyes refused to align with hers. His fingers quivered ever so slightly, she noticed, as he moved to shake her hand.

His grip was soft. It wasn’t something she was expecting, taking his palm firmly and pulling him gently into her office, but it was a welcome surprise. On their way in, she was sure to kick the slanted wooden block out from underneath the door.

He flinched when the door clicked shut. She noted that, too, walking around her desk and plopping into her chair, rolling forward and planting her elbows on the wood. Tommy was a bit slower with his actions, seeming almost disappointed at the loss of warmth on his hand as he sat down and gripped onto the edges of the cushioned furniture.

His head was tilted downwards the entire time- surely that wasn’t good for his neck- and his blond locks hung slightly over his eyes. His back was hunched forward and the white fabric he wore was wrinkled and unkept. He eventually moved one of his legs onto the chair, knee pressed up against his chest, but it didn’t seem to help much. Anyone could tell that he looked uncomfortable from a single glance.

Looking at him made her frown and nervously gnaw on her lip, momentarily growing distracted until he cleared his throat but didn’t speak. “Right!” She sat up, reaching into her drawer and pulling out a bright yellow stress ball. “Tommy, catch!” Puffy was sure to keep her voice light as she tossed it to him.

He flinched wildly as it hurdled towards him, hiding his face in his chest and his knee while both arms shot out as some form of defense. Tommy’s fist slammed closed around the squishy material, his eyes squeezed shut as he didn’t dare move.

The room was terribly silent for a few moments, Puffy’s regret growing as strong as the lack of sound. She began to reach a hand out to try and comfort him, but paused upon seeing movement.

He uncurled slowly and stared at the object with something that distantly resembled confusion and disgust, but his gaze softened when he loosened his grip and watched the foam unwrinkle and grow smooth instead.

Tommy let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in, Puffy simultaneously doing the same.

“Sorry for startling you,” the sheep hybrid rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers getting slightly tangled in her head full of white curls. The blond didn’t respond with anything more than a nod, allowing the semi-professional therapist only a small amount of relief as she pulled her hand forward and took the pen along with it.

She brought ink to paper, but found herself unable to write anything. It’d be best to talk first, she realized- right. To the client.

The client was Tommy. A sixteen year old who she only met months ago, but had already grown a special liking for.

Even before she knew him, he had a life full of trauma. An entire war- maybe two?- that she wasn’t here for, the first one started because of a drug empire and some music discs. A toxic presidency- two, actually, one from someone he looked up to as a brother, and another from a sickened alcoholic. What else was there, before she managed to make her way to these lands? She was probably missing something, she knew.

The rest was history. His exile, his return, doomsday, and most recently The Big Innit Hotel. He seemed to be healing, finally, but it wasn’t something he could do on his own and nobody else appeared to be helping.

So she took it upon herself, hence why the war veteran sat before her now.

“How are you doing today, Tommy?” She asked simply.

The glum shrug of his shoulders was answer enough, she supposed, allowing the pen to slip from her fingers and rest on the desk.

“How’s business at your hotel?” Puffy tried again, kicking one leg over another to sit more comfortably. Once again, the kid acted indifferent, squeezing the yellow sphere in his palm.

“Bad and Skeppy booked rooms,” he mumbled under his breath, “and Jack Manifold works for me now. I miss Sam Nook, though.”

She wasn’t sure how she felt about most of the things he said. Bad and Skeppy had been strange to her ever since this egg began taking over, and Jack Manifold was overall a very strange man who, as far as she heard, died for the final time only to return with all three of his lives with seemingly no explanation for it.

Sam Nook, however, she understood.

She didn’t know much of the man, only that Sam created him in order to help build the hotel. Tommy grew attached very quickly, but now that the structure was completed, Sam Nook had been powered down until future projects arose. Sam Nook reminded her a little bit of Baymax, a marshmallow-like robot from a movie she held close to her heart. He was charming in the strangest way possible, and provided tasks to complete in very simplistic form. Tommy, a child who never got to act his age, was of course very fond of this.

So now that he was gone, he was at a loss once more, left alone to run his hotel and deal with his trauma all at once.

“That’s really cool, Tommy!” She said, genuinely, although her smile was a little low, “I’m glad you’ve been having fun with that. It seems like a lot to take on.”

He nodded this time, bringing his other leg onto the chair and sitting criss-cross. His legs were clearly too big for the cushions, and Puffy noted she’d need to find a larger chair for his next visit.

Tommy seemed to consider his next words carefully, his gaze ever so still on the carpeted floors, before deciding what he’d say. “Yeah. It’s been.. a lot, mhm,” he admitted with a slight laugh, squeezing the ball and running his thumb over the folds, “it’s worth it though.”

When Puffy didn’t reply, he continued bashfully, “it’s meant to be a sanctuary of sorts. For money and all that, ‘course, but I’ve also noticed that.. pretty much everyone here has been through so many wars. So I guess it’s like a hotel for war vets? That doesn’t really make sense. But.. yeah.” He shut himself down with a cough in his throat.

Puffy’s eyes lit up at the words, and she grinned widely, “it’s the thought that counts! That’s incredibly generous of you, Tommy, I’m proud of how far you’ve come, really. The hotel is an awesome idea. I’m sure everyone’ll love it!” She interlocked her fingers and rested them on the desk as she spoke, “the idea behind it was a safe space for those who’ve gone through a lot of trauma, right?”

When he hummed in confirmation, she continued, “do you mind expanding on that? Be as vague as you’d like.”

He was quiet for a few moments after that, pressing his thumb into the compressed ball whilst his other hand pushed down on his knee. Taking his time to think. Puffy was patient, assuring him that he was allowed to be slow and consider his options.

He eventually opened his lips to summarize his story.

“As much as I’ve been through, I know there’s a lot of others who’ve been through similar. I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately- mainly Tubbo. He’s my best friend, I’ve known him for as long as I can remember. Throughout this entire thing, he’s pretty much been with me- minus the, uh, exile thing, but he had to do that. I’m sure Dream would’ve..”

He cleared his throat and continued.

“Most things that happened to me happened to him, too. Schlatt’s presidency, the time we spent gathering materials, his execution.. god, his execution,” he shakily inhaled, “and later on, the explosions and withers, both Wilbur and Schlatt died that day. Then Tubbo had to exile me.”

“You’ve never really talked about that, have you?” Puffy asked softly. He shook his head curtly, now squishing the stress ball between his palms.

“Not really, no. I don’t like talking about it.”

She was quick to nod and change subjects, “that’s completely understandable, don’t worry about it. You have your discs back, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, although his voice was laced with a deep regret, “Cat and Mellohi.”

“Those are your favorites?” She assumed.

“Oh, no, not really,” Tommy shook his head, poking his thumb into the foam and then running his finger over it as it inflated itself once again, “I like Wait. And also Chirp, but that’s because Chirp is Tubbo’s favorite, you know.”

“Ah. So why Cat and Mellohi, then? Is there any special meaning to them?” She raised a brow, slightly confused as she picked up her pen and prepared to write.

Tommy took a moment to think on this before shrugging, “I don’t remember, honestly. They’re some of the first discs I got, though- Tubbo has the first Stal. Like, the first Stal.”

As she spoke, she jotted something down, “oh, shoot, the original? I thought that got blown up!”

“It didn’t,” he mused, “he’s been keeping it in his enderchest this entire time.”

“That’s smart of him,” Puffy commented, which made Tommy snort and hum in agreement. “Yeah. Wish I’da done that before everything went to shit,” he said with a sour look on his face. His arms crossed over one another, the ball still held tightly in his grip, as he turned his head to stare at the wall.

The pattern was dull to him. Faded brown stripes on beige- calming, yes, but not exciting. He wasn’t used to such a state of calm.

The sheep hybrid followed his gaze before refocusing onto Tommy. “I’ve been meaning to ask you about Wilbur.”

Tommy immediately froze up at this, so she continued, “I.. never got to meet him, actually. He passed before I could. What was he like?”

The blond was silent for over a minute, his crossed arms turning into a self-hug as his legs shifted awkwardly. Thinking. Remembering- it was hard to remember. So much had happened since he died.

“He was like a big brother to me,” Tommy finally said. “Sure, we only really became so close because we started a country that was originally just meant to sell drugs but became serious when Dream got upset, and sure he blew up L’Manburg and had Phil kill him and never said goodbye to any of us, but- I was his right hand man,” his voice wavered as he clenched the ball in his fist, “we were pals- brothers with other mothers, you know? So I’m not really sure why he..”

Tommy took a long moment to catch his breath and steady his words.

“I’m not sure why he blew it up. We had a deal- if we got it back, he wouldn’t blow it up. I don’t know why he made that deal with Dream- his symphony, stupid bullshit,” he glared at nothing, “he said he was proud of me.”

Puffy was quiet before she gestured for him to continue, holding the pen between her fingers but not daring press it onto paper.

“After- after the thing with Dream, Tubbo and I went to the bench. And we heard him. Wilbur, I mean- I’m not sure how. But he said he was with Schlatt, and he said that he didn’t want to be brought back to life like we all thought. But then he said he was proud of me, and he said he’d see me soon- so where is he? I thought he woulda been back by now. Dream hasn’t revived him.”

Puffy swallowed down the lump in her throat. “Do you miss him?” She prompted.

He didn’t answer, unable to think of a proper reply. Puffy took this a response of its own.

Sighing, she set down the pen once more and leaned into her desk, looking at Tommy with gentle eyes. “Do you even want him back?”

“It feels wrong that he’s gone.”

A breakthrough. She folded her hands on the desk and looked at him expectantly. Only a moment did she catch his gaze filled to the brim with uncertainty and maybe a few tears. He sniffled, bringing a hand up to rub at his eyes before he spoke.

“He wasn’t a good person by any means. But I still miss him, I think. I don’t know,” he admitted quietly, “I’ve still got Ghostbur, but Ghostbur isn’t Wilbur. It’s not the same.”

“I think I understand,” Puffy grabbed her pen and began to sketch something on the bottom of the lined paper, “you miss him because he was the only one who really respected you. You had Tubbo, of course, but it wasn’t quite the same as him. Wilbur was willing to work with you most of the time, and he was the beginning of.. most things up to recent, really. Without L’Manburg, it’s entirely possible that none of this would have ever happened.”

“L’Manburg had its ups and downs,” she explained, “it was a home for so many people, but over time its government became corrupted and lost its original meaning and morals. Each time it was destroyed was a life lost, and by now its surely lost all three. It was as good as it was bad. For example.. maybe nations shouldn’t be started because of drugs. That’s a good first step.”

Tommy weakly laughed at this, listening as she spoke.

“It caused a lot of trauma, yeah, but don’t you also have good memories of it?”

He nodded slowly.

“And you recognize that none of what happened was your fault? None of the bad things?” She looked at him hopefully.

He fell into a guilty silence that made Puffy sigh.

“Could you have done anything to alter how everything happened?” She tried to reason.

Tommy raised his head, “well, maybe if I-“

“Wilbur was too far gone, I’m afraid,” she cut him off, already knowing what he’d say, “you’re only a kid, Tommy. That shouldn’t be your responsibility in the first place.”

“I’m not a kid,” he snapped, dropping his eyes to the bottom of the desk stubbornly, “I’m a man.”

“What’s Sam Nook, then?”

Silence.

“He was like the father you never had, wasn’t he? I could tell from the way you looked at him.”

He swallowed, but found his words caught in his throat.

“You were never able to be a kid, Tommy. You deserve a childhood,” she insisted, watching as his hands lowered into his lap and he squeezed the yellow sphere between them. She continued to explain, “he presents things to you simply, which is.. completely unlike anything you’ve ever had. It’s always been complex and violent, hasn’t it? Name one time your only task was to gather some items and pass out a couple posters.”

When he didn’t answer, her lips upturned ever so slightly and she straightened her posture. “It’s.. hard to hear, I get that. But you deserve the chance to be a kid again.”

Through the thickened silence, he took a shaky breath in. A moment to process everything Puffy told him, the things he’d been denying for as long as he could remember.

“You shouldn’t be faced with all these adult responsibilities so early,” Puffy tried filling the air, “you’re allowed to take time for yourself. A vacation, if you will.”

A vacation sounded like a fantastic idea right about now, he agreed in his head.

“.. have you ever had a vacation before?”

“Once,” he replied with a small shrug, “it wasn’t much, though. Just me and Tubbo in a vacation home we built.”

“Have you thought about doing that again with him?” She suggested, “Snowchester seems pretty nice if nowhere else.”

Tommy hummed this time, putting his attention on the yellow stress ball, “I don’t like Snowchester.”

Momentarily she pondered on that, but the answer came quickly. Snowchester was a country, or at the very least it was reminiscent of one. The boy clearly didn’t have many positive experiences with governmental organizations.

“That’s okay! Uh,” she surveyed the walls and the many colorful decorations she’d put up, trying to think, but no locations came to mind. Any ideas she did have were likely too far, or perhaps a touchy subject. She eventually asked, “well, what’s your ideal vacation?”

“I’m not sure,” he responded a bit quick, fiddling with the ball in his hands, “really just somewhere that’s a bit away from here, where not many people are.”

“Foolish’s summer home, maybe,” Puffy suggested, “he’s been working on it for a while now. I’ve only been there once or twice, but it’s so beautiful.”

He considered the option before shrugging, “I don’t know. I’d have to ask Tubbo about it.”

“So.. you’ll consider it?” She sat up in her chair, appearing genuinely surprised whilst Tommy looked confused at her reaction. “Yeah?” He answered, although uncertainly, “is that.. okay? Is there something wrong?”

“No, no!” She stood up in her chair, the seat rolling back as she waved her hands, “no, that’s perfectly okay- more than okay, really! I just didn’t think you’d agree to it, honestly. You’ve always pegged me as a bit of a workaholic if I’m honest.”

He narrowed his eyes at this, pushing his thumb into the foam and nearly breaking through it. “Workaholic?”

When Puffy began to explain the definition of the word, Tommy cut her off, “no, I know what a workaholic is. I’m just.. not one.”

He sighed when she looked at him to elaborate, but complied. “I’ve wanted nothing more than for this all to stop ever since doomsday. No more wars, no more fighting, if we could just be normal. If anything I’m just paranoid that Dream’ll escape or something, and it’ll start all over again.”

She didn’t mention the many problems that remained at hand. The nukes Tubbo had possession of, the egg that was growing and beginning to take control of the SMP, the arising conflict between new businesses. Instead she focused on the present, the issue in this very office at this exact moment.

“He won’t be getting out any time soon,” she assured gently, as guilty as the words made her feel, “there’s nothing to worry about. As of now, everything’s completely safe, and you’re more than welcome to take a vacation if you want.”

He thought on it for only a moment, a thousand words crammed into a second, before his decision was made and his mind was set.

“Yeah- yeah! You’re right!” He finally agreed with her, getting up from his seat and planting his hands on the desk, squishing the stress ball on the wood in the process, “I should take a vacation- whether it be me or me and Tubbo, I’ll do it!”

Puffy grinned, doing her best to match his newfound energy and determination, “that’s the spirit! You could even go and talk to him about it right now if you really wanted to!”

He stood up at this, leaving the ball on the desk, and his eyes almost sparkled. “Yeah! Yeah, I will! Thanks, Puffy!” He spun on his heels, converse scratching against the carpet, before he took off out the door, nearly hitting the frame on his way out.

“I’ll see you for your next appointment!” She called after him, quick to make her way to the entrance of the office to watch him disappear, waving goodbye. She swore she saw him turn and wave back, even if only for a moment, before he passed through the gates of his hotel and was gone along the paths.

She supposed she could count this as a success.


End file.
